


A Matter of Perspective

by Yami_no_Kaiba



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Implied Torture, M/M, Molestation, Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yami_no_Kaiba/pseuds/Yami_no_Kaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty gets a little alone time with John.  He makes sure to take a souvenir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers:** The BBC ultimately owns these versions of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's characters. They live across the pond, if you want to visit them.  
>  **Warnings:** somewhat graphic torture and sexual molestation.

Jim rolled his head, expression tugging into a wide smirk as he flounced into the off-white tiled room, finishing the last of the children's song he'd been humming down the corridor. "And the itsy bitsy spider," he trilled, making the hand motions as he sang, "crawled up the water spout AGAIN," he finished loudly, finality in the last note. With a quick flourish of his hands and a small bow he grinned up at his captive audience from below his eyelashes with a knowing grin. "Did you miss me, Puppy?"

A sorry looking mess of a man tied to a chair jerks to attention at the slamming of the iron door against the wall. A single blue eye glares at him, the other socket a weeping bloody mess that the eyelids just sort of flop into. Jim tsks and strides forward, getting close enough to swing a leg over and straddle John's bound legs, bringing a hand up to brush the mess away from the tender skin under the sunken hole. "Awww, did Puppy misbehave under Sebby's care? You really should know better than to talk back to my Kitty. Cats are territorial, and I never got around to removing his claws."

John's right eye ticks to the side and Jim gets his hand down to cup and squeeze the stubbled jaw in time to feel the slow grind and minute wince of clenched teeth. "Open up, pretty pretty, Daddy needs to see those pearly teeth," he hisses, stretching his hand so that he could dig his fingers and thumb into the somewhat plush and bruise mottled cheeks, forcing the blond's mouth open. A quick check shows a molar and pre-molar missing from the left bottom jaw. "Hmm, I bet that's quite the tender area..." he trails off, a concerned moe quickly morphing into a giddy grin as he squeezes that side harder, lunging down to lock his mouth over John's and thrust his tongue in to prod at the swelled gums.

Jim moans into a filthy dragging kiss while John's head tries to jerk out of his grip, little pained noises cut-off in the tanned throat as Jim continues to periodically prod the sore spot. When Jim finally lets John go with a last peck against the equally swelled bottom lip, he breaks into giggles and leans back onto John's bound knees.

John spits to the side, before glaring again with his one eye. "I'm not gay."

"Oh, really, darling!" Jim drawls out, letting his hands trail down from John's face, scratching lines into the flesh as he brings them to the bared nipples Sebastian had oh so helpfully put on display. "Denial is so unbecoming on your cute little honest face. Besides," he breathed the last a bit heavily, dangerously, leaning in to stare straight into that one blue orb. "Do you really think I care what you are or want?" He lets a slow grin creep along as understanding finally settles in that mostly ordinary little brain.

"You're insane," John replied, mouth thinning and eye turning away as if he was berating himself for letting that slip.

"Nope!" he exclaimed, leaning back again to wave a hand about while popping the 'p'. "Just very, very self-centered, Puppy. And I get soooo bored," he ended with a sigh, hand splayed on the side of his face as he tilted his head against it. "But then someone like you and Sebby comes along, and for brief moments, things get interesting!"

He leans in close again, grasping with the hand he'd had on his own cheek to grip and pull a large tuft of blond to bring John even closer as he licked against the shell of an ear. "A little semi-precious gem that could be so pretty if one just took the time to," another lick and hard nip, "tumble off the edges and polish – it – right," he emphasized the last words with little nips and growls before pulling back once more.

There was confusion written all across that expressive face. "I thought Sherlock was the one that had your interest."

"John boy, Johnny, John-john!" He tsks loudly, waving an index finger back and forth in front of John's face. "Come now, surely you've heard that every gay man needs a beard? True, it's usually of the opposite sex, but I'm sure you get the idea."

"But –"

A harsh tug on the hair in his grip to snap that opened jaw closed with an underlying hiss of pain. "Same is BORING! He's smart and pretty, and I'm sure I wouldn't mind to hit that ass at least once, but we're just too much alike, Puppy! It would never work out," he shakes his head slowly while giving his best wistful look.

He leans back in with a smirk, trailing his hand up to tweak a nipple. "Now, what's say you and I forget all about Sherly-pie and get down to business while he rushes to your rescue like the knight in shining armor you make him want to be?"

John growls and lunges against the grip in his hair, losing quite a few strands to snap his teeth at the hastily retreating arm near his face.

Jim just laughs, pinches and jerks the nipple in his other hand as he deftly backhands John across the face. "Be a good damsel in distress while the big bad wolf eats you up."

*---*---*

Of course, Sir-Boast-A-Lot does eventually make it to the party with a train of London's finest behind him. Jim trades a few minutes of witty banter before he collects his cat and slips out through the tunnels below the compound.

When Moran hands him the newly leather wrapped, chemically treated eye that's dangling from its long cord, Jim can't help but giggle and give it a long lingering kiss.

Jim will get his chance. After all, his Johnny boy is a soldier – no matter how much society tries to bury all that wonderful potential danger in cuddly wool sweaters. John is going to need a boost to his personal moral after all this, and what better way to gain it than to go for an eye for an eye scenario?

Fingers tangling in the leather cord, Jim slips his prize over his head. He lets it settle around his neck, feeling the weight of it with a rising glee in his heart. Let John come for an eye. Jim will be more than happy to take the time and give him one. He'd always wanted a pet with heterochromia iridum as a feature.

And in the meantime, every time his little soldier boy looks in a mirror, or sees his reflection in a piece of glass, he'll see what Jim has taken. He'll see what he has lost, and he'll grieve and he'll rage, but most of all: he'll think of Jim.

Let the sea witch covet the princess' voice. Jim would rather have his prince's sight and mind on him and him alone.

\--Fin.


End file.
